


The Logbook of The Duchess Olivia

by Saberwriter



Category: Fallout 4, Golden Age of Piracy - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saberwriter/pseuds/Saberwriter
Summary: In the Age of Piracy, no name struck more fear than that of the Devil-Maned Captain of the Duchess Olivia, Captain Renee Jones. And then one day she came across a wrecked boat and one survivor named Geneva Dandridge.('Devil-maned'? Really)(I told you we should have shot that writer you fished out of the open ocean, Captain)(Oh, shut up, Noodle)Renee Jones belongs to Cyndercrys (Have you checked out her stories yet?), while Gene(va) Dandridge is vkm11's OC (Have you checked out her art yet?). Both are used with permission and profuse apologies. Anita is my OC, for who I make no apologies.





	The Logbook of The Duchess Olivia

\--1715, 2 days sail from The Virgin Islands

  
The small cutter had led the crew of the Duchess Olivia on a merry chase; the captain reasoned that there must be some great prize on board to have the single person observed on the tiny boat engage in what was probably the most reckless display of seamanship for the times. The brigantine creaked as it pursued the smaller boat as close as it dared, the smaller vessel coming perilously close to almost every shoal, reef, and other hazards to navigation. Eventually, the daring and luck of the cutter's helmsman overreached their ability. A sudden change in the wind drove the tiny vessel into an outcropping of rocks, the sound of splintering timbers audible to everyone on the Olivia.

  
The second in command, a tall person with light red hair cropped close, lifted a brass spyglass to one green eye, surveying the wreckage. "No sign of movement, Captain Jones."  
Captain Jones nodded, her own red hair, much darker and longer than her second in command's, shaking slightly in the breeze as the Olivia neared the shore. "Send Davies and Maxwell out, they're on scow duty." The second in command nodded. "Think we'll find anything, Noodle?"

  
'Noodle' arched an eyebrow. "A ship that small won't be carrying much. Maybe some jewelry, maybe it was some rich young fool who decided they wanted to sail the seven seas all by themselves."

  
"Not that you'd know anything about that, eh, Noodle?" as Captain Jones spoke, a large grey parrot flapped loudly over, unleashing an irritated-sounding 'squawk' as he landed on the captain's battered tricorn hat. "I reckon even Booplesnoot here could've sailed that dinghy better."

  
\--

  
The small rowboat picked its way around the rocky shoreline, eventually coming upon the wreckage. "What do you make of that," the taller of the two asked as they pulled up beside the wreckage."

  
"Looks like she took the rock at full speed," the other replied. "Poor sod's probably done for. Let's find him and check the pockets, Davies." The two carefully boarded the remains of the boat. Maxwell grimaced. "Not a lot to pick up."

  
Davies went inside. "Max, I found 'im!" He came out hauling a body; unconscious and sporting a fantastic goose egg on their head."

  
Max narrowed his eyes. "'Him', you say. You been hittin the rum again?"

  
\--

  
Screaming. Screaming, yelling and lots of...was it rum? Yes. Unfortunately, not nearly enough of it was drunk by her. Far too much was taken by...

  
The woman winced, immediately tried to sit upright and just as immediately regretted it. Her hand touched her head, discovering the bandage. She finally remembered she had eyes, and opened them.  
She was in a cabin, clearly still at sea. For a second, she wondered if she'd dreamed the last two days. It had started innocently enough, just a woman who really didn't want to be tied down to a drunken boor who thought that waiting a week for the wedding was too long...

  
"Oh, good, you're alive. I get 5 silvers." The woman gasped and tried to look, rewarded with another splitting headache. "You took a rather nasty blow to the head. I had a wager with Ensign Davies that you'd survive. Clearly I won. I'll inform the captain you're awake."

  
"Captain..." the woman gasped. "Then I am-"

  
"Yes, a prisoner of the Dread Pirate Jones, hard-bitten and hard-drinking raider of the high seas." This was said with almost a resigned sigh. "I knew we should have shot that besotted minstrel. May I have you're name?"

  
"I'll not give you my name or anything else!"

  
A shrug. "Not an unusual response. I am Anita, though I'm called 'Noodle' by everyone here." She opened the door behind her, and stepped out. "Captain?"

  
A few seconds passed, then Captain Jones stepped in. "So, this is-" she paused as she got her first look at their prisoner.

  
"Well?" the woman demanded after a few seconds of silence. "Are all pirates so easily tongue tied?"

  
Jones blinked, then let a faint grin cross her face. "It depends who's doing the tying, duchess."

  
The woman's face turned a delicate shade of red. "I am no...do not make fun of me!"

  
"Then give me a name."

"...Geneva. Geneva Dandridge."

  
"Captain Renee Jones, at your service." Renee made a mockery of a bow. "And what brings you out on the open ocean, all alone in a tiny boat?"

  
"Does it matter? All that matters is which flesh-merchant you plan to shove me off on," Geneva snarled.

  
Renee's grin vanished, and fury was clear in her expression. She stepped forward, standing so her face was right up against Geneva's. "I will forgive that insult once. Not. Again."

  
Her own anger up, Geneva forced herself to stand up. "Are you threatening me, you...henna-haired harlot?" Renee's hand snapped out, catching the taller woman across the face. The captain spun on her heel, and stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door shut. Geneva sat on her bed, as a wave of nausea suddenly gripped her. She clapped a hand over her mouth, and fished desperately under the bed for a bucket of some kind.

  
\--

  
"Self-centred, arrogant, stuck up-" With an inarticulate cry, Renee snatched a beaten copper mug from the table in her own cabin and hurled it against the wall. On his perch, a safe distance from the drama, Booplesnoot watched silently. The door swung open with a faint creak. "What?!"

  
"I was waiting for the throw," Anita answered, not bothering to hide her faint amusement at her captain's antics. "We finished looting the wreckage. Clothing, a few personal effects, and this." Anita tossed a small, partially soaked book on the table. "A diary. Captain, I believe she was running."

  
"Reading other people's diaries, Noodle? I really have corrupted you, haven't I?"

  
"Well, you are a...what did she call you?"

  
"Don't" Renee snapped. She slumped in a chair. "Sorry. I don't know why I let her get to me."

  
"Yes, you do. And it's not just because you saved me from the same fate." Anita sat across from Renee. "We can take her back to Blanco Islet and have Natalie run her back through the usual route."  
Renee said nothing for a minute. "Except you said she was running."

  
Anita nodded at the journal. "You might wish to check the page I bookmarked."

  
Curious, Renee took the journal and read the indicated page. The ink was smeared but still legible. "An arranged marriage, huh? I've fled from worse. Hmm...Anglican...you don't suppose...?"

"How about I ask her. I think she might be a bit off talking to you."

  
"Why Noodle, I'll have you know I can be very charming when needed." Anita arched an eyebrow. "Alright, alright. She's probably tossed the last three days of food all over the floor. Get the good mop. And that...drink."

  
\--

  
"Damn, damn, DAMN." Geneva swore, clutching her stomach. She hated sailing, hated boats, hated the salt in the air, hated the rocking, no, don't focus on the rocking...she fell back on the bed, barely able to move. There was a knock on the door to her cabin. "What," she feebly croaked.

  
Anita entered, surveying the mess. "Hmm. And now I owe the captain the money I won from Ensign Davies." She stepped around the mess that didn't make it to the bucket and put a small bottle on the table, as well as some dried fruit. "You'll want to drink that first. It helps with seasickness. And you'll want to go slow on the fruit." Geneva eyed the other woman with some suspicion. "Drink it slowly, there's a...fair amount of ginger involved in its creation."

  
"Why?"

  
"Hm? Oh it helps with the seasickness, and with keeping food down-"

  
"No. Why...why do this?"

  
Anita smiled a bit. "You've not exactly fallen in with a pack of thieves and slavers. In fact, Captain Jones has sworn to kill every slaver she comes across." Her face fell a bit. "It's why I owe her my life," she finished a bit quietly.

  
Geneva absorbed this, then reached for the small bottle. She took a sip, then nearly dropped the bottle as she clapped her free hand over her mouth. "A...a little ginger," she managed after a few seconds.

  
"It will pass." Anita answered. "It's nearing dark, but the weather is clear. Rest, and recover. You're going to be stuck on the same ship with Captain Jones, so why don't we try again tomorrow."

  
-Next chapter: The villain of this drama makes his entrance


End file.
